


Is It Really Normal?

by Who_Dat



Category: Football RPF
Genre: England National Team, M/M, Tottenham Hotspur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-10 20:59:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7006615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Who_Dat/pseuds/Who_Dat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eric tries to convince himself that this is all normal. It's just what best friends do.</p><p>He doesn't believe it. </p><p>But that doesn't stop him from trying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Is It Really Normal?

**Author's Note:**

> So I love these two. They're probably two of my favourite players in world football right now. I mean, their chemistry kills me, even though I'm not a Spurs fan ~ Leicester till I die until next time

'This is normal.'

Eric thinks if he says it enough in his head he'll finally start to believe it. But it gets harder and harder for him to ignore the whistles of his teammates when Dele wraps his arms around him in training, the knowing smirks when the two show up to together. He's starting to wonder if they're even joking anymore when they tell him to "get a room."

And it scares him.

It really does.

Almost as much as the thought that he might be in love.

Because he doesn't know, he really doesn't.

His heart has never been less in check. It drives him crazy every time Dele's hand brushes against his own. His body heats up and the butterflies build up in his stomach with every passing second.

He still tries to convince himself it's not love though.

And as you can tell, he's not very successful with that.

"Earth to Diet? Are you listening to a word I'm saying?" Dele leans in, quizzically studying his face, snapping him back to reality. They're out to lunch, empty plates resting in front of them. Dele has the faintest smudge of sauce on the corner of his lip and for a moment Eric wants nothing more than to reach over and wipe it away. But the longer he waits to respond, the more Dele studies him. Almost as if he's peering into his soul, ripping away the layers of protection Eric has built for himself. Dele knows how to read him, probably too well if Eric's being honest with himself.

He quickly scoffs, trying desperately to recollect himself. "Of course I am."

Some job of that.

"You're full of shit." Dele giggles and Eric's lips settle in a satisfied smirk as he raises his arms in surrender.

"Fine, you caught me." He practically wills himself to keep a straight face. It's times like these when he curses himself for being so pale.

"Are you thinking about yesterday? Hey, it was world class. Put one of those in at the other end and you'll be the most famous person in England, trust me Diet."

Eric practically groans in recollection. He's talking about that own goal. That fucking own goal. He was really trying to forget about that, but Dele just had to bring it up didn't he?

"What're you gonna do, mug me off on the Internet about it?"

"Not if you're gonna kill me over it. Calm down, it was just a friendly. You really don't need to beat yourself up over it."

"I'm not beating myself up." He mutters defensively. Sure they still emerged on top, but he hadn't been good enough and he definitely hadn't made the manager look all that bright for only selecting three center halves in his squad.

"Your an awful liar, you know that Eric? I'm surprised your glare didn't melt me after I brought it up."

"You're overreacting."

"Am I?"

Dele leans in, face inches away from his, just studying, waiting for Eric to slip up, for the walls he's built around himself to slowly crumble at the pressure of a single glance.

Eric already knows he'll lose this battle. It's futile really, but he still doesn't expect his hand to find the corner of Dele's lip, where the sauce from earlier still lies, clear as day. Eric brushes it away before he can regain control of his body, there's no way he can let up now.

Dele's eyes widen a bit, but he says nothing.

"You're a slob." Eric snickers. "A crafty slob, but a slob just the same."

Dele seems to have composed himself as a mischievous smirk plays across his lips. "Thanks mum." He laughs, rising from his chair. "I'll be back, yeah? Don't miss me too much." He flashes Eric one final smile before he retreats to the restroom. A server takes this moment to place the bill on the table. She looks like she's into her forties or so and she's got a knowing smile on her face as he pays. She probably recognizes them, or at least Dele.

"You guys are a very cute couple." She says, the warmth in her voice obvious as she turns, leaving Eric struggling to find himself. Every last bit of air's been sucked from his lungs. And it only now sinks into him that anyone in the restaurant could've heard that. He needs to get out of here, right now.

He storms into the bathroom, where Dele's lathering his hands in soap. His friend- yes friend, looks up to see the mess that is Eric at the moment in the smooth glass of the mirror.

"What the hell is wrong with you? You look pissed."

"Less talking, more leaving." Eric replies curtly, dragging Dele out of the washroom before he can even protest.

"Seriously, what's wrong with you? You're acting insane." Dele wiggles his way out of Eric's grasp. They're only a few steps away from the restaurants exit. He can hear the server, that same one, somewhere behind him. Just giggling away isn't she?

"Everything." He storms out the door.

Dele follows, quickly matching his pace. "Are you mad at me Diet?"

"I'm not mad at anyone." He mutters as they make their way to Dele's car.

"Then what's up?"

"Promise you won't banter me off?"

"Promise."

"While you were gone... Someone said what a cute couple we were." He doesn't dare meet Dele's eyes.

"Diet I always knew you'd come through! I know I'm pretty irresistible but I didn't think you'd be so bold!" His laugh is contagious and Eric can't help but break into a smile, even if Dele's the worst actor in the whole wide world.

"You're a fuck Del Boy, you know that?"

"Yeah, but apparently I'm your fuck Eric, so suck it."

Eric rolls his eyes. Dele's far too laid back for his own good sometimes.

"Nothing bothers you, does it?" Eric mutters, opening the passengers side of the car.

"Why would I be bothered? It's a dream come true to go on a date with the one and only Eric Diet."

"Cut that crap Del, you're being ridiculous."

"Maybe." Dele's staring at him, a small smile on his lips. "You did pay for me though, so technically, it was a date."

Eric's cheeks heat up instantly as he slams the door, retreating backwards. "That's it, I'm not getting in this car with you."

"Don't be like that Dier." Dele sulks. "She was probably just messing with you."

"You think?"

"Probably. You're pretty easy to get going, but I'm not that bad am I?"

 _'No... You're probably the best thing that's ever happened to me.'_ He wishes he could say. He's a coward and he's very aware of it, but still, he really wishes he could.

"The worst." He says decisively, forcing out a laugh.

"Thanks Dier, love you too." Dele grins, getting into the car. Eric quickly follows suit.

"So you're all better now?" Dele asks, studying him carefully. He nods nonchalantly as he buckles his seatbelt.

The short ride is silent but not uncomfortable. Dele's way too serious of a driver. If Eric were to put a gun to his head now he'd be willing to bet his life savings that Dele wouldn't take his eyes off the road, that's how intense he gets. It's also the main reason Dele's the designated driver of their friendship, the one who drives the two when they're out on the go. Eric can clearly remember the last time he had the joy of driving Dele to training, mainly because of the glare he received for fiddling with the radio in bumper-to-bumper traffic. And by glare, he means a glare from the darkest pits of Tartarus, a glare as if he'd just committed murder rather than avert his gaze from the road for half a second. That was over a month ago and he's pretty sure Dele still hasn't forgiven him for it.

They pull into Dele's driveway. It's getting fairly late into the afternoon, but it's not like he has anywhere else to be. He practically lives for these days. The days where he can almost forget about football and his mess of a life with one of Dele's laughs. It's sounds ridiculously cheesy, which is why he'll keep that buried inside him for the rest of his life.

"So what's the plan?" Dele looks over at him expectantly. And he's definitely not going to fail to deliver.

"I say we get pissed."

"You wanna drown your owl goal in hard liquor, huh Diet?"

"Oh, fuck off." He rolls his eyes and climbs out of the car, pacing briskly to Dele's doorstep. Drowning his sorrows isn't that bad of a plan honestly, but he'd much rather his heart if he's being completely honest with himself.

Dele unlocks the door and Eric immediately heads to the liquor cabinet, something he knows like the back of his hand. Dele stands behind him, shaking his head as Eric digs out the whisky. "I really worry about you sometimes Eric. I wasn't really looking forward to scrapping you off the floor tonight."

He simply shrugs. "Don't you dare judge me." He clearly remembers the last time the two of them did this and it involved him carrying Dele to bed after he almost tripped into the toilet, sure it hadn't been Eric's brightest moment either after he nearly dropped Dele, twice. Not to mention the drunken bed time story he told, a story he almost remembers word for word. Actually, the less he thinks of that night the better. 

~

They end up spending the night acting like teenage girls, playing games like 'never have I ever' and 'truth or dare,' completely losing themselves in the process. Dele's been giggling nonstop for over an hour and Eric can barely see straight.

"We're going to hell for this. I swear can see the devil now."

"Diet help me!" Dele's grabs at Eric's shirt at least three times before finally latching onto it, burying his head into the garment, his laughter further escalating to the point of tears. He honestly can't help but laugh himself.

"You're gone aren't you Del Boy?" He hiccups, causing Dele's body to spasm in hysteric.

"Drunk in love mate." He belts. Eric's far too gone to blush, too far gone to even take notice really.

Maybe whiskey can really put a stop to his heart.

~

Eric wakes to his head pounding. He hates the aftermath of a night out, which might answer some questions over his quiet social life.

Instantly questions of his whereabouts take the front seat as he forces his eyes open. It only then dawns upon him that someone's leg is wrapped around his waist, and that someone's hand is latched onto his chest

_Dele._

The horror of the situation instantly sinks in.

_He is in Dele's bed._

_In his fucking boxers._

_Cuddling with Dele._

_His best friend._

'It's normal.'

'It's normal.'

_'It's not fucking normal.'_

"Sleeping with your best friend isn't normal Eric..." He mutters to himself. He has to accept it now, as much as it pains him to.

He also needs to get the hell out of here. "You have to move now Eric." He sounds robotic, but maybe robotic is good for a change. Good enough to slip away from Dele's viper grasp.

Now there's the issue of finding his clothes, but he's immediately interrupted by Dele's soft voice.

"Diet... I'm sorry..." He knows. He definitely knows he's pushed his luck.

"Don't be." He responds dismissively.

"You're mad, aren't you?"

"No, but I need to get out of here, ok?" He doesn't even give Dele a chance to respond as he exits the bedroom. He knows Dele's place almost as well as his own, so he's at the door within seconds, which only then does he remember his attire and immediately feels the need to melt into the floor. Thankfully his jacket's still on the coat rack, giving him the time to formulate a decent plan to get the hell out of here. He grabs his phone out of the jackets front pocket, immediately ringing Danny.

"Danny I need you to pick me up right now."

Danny simply laughs. "Wow you sound rough, what the hell's going on Dier?"

"No time to explain, just pick me up in the next two minutes please I'm at Dele's and I fucking need you."

"Fine. I'm leaving right now, but God do you owe me an explanation for this one." Danny hangs up the phone, leaving Eric to thank the heavens he doesn't have to walk home like this.

His pulls the jacket on. He looks like an absolute mug, but Danny's never gonna let him live this down as is.

Danny shows up in just over a minute. Unlike Dele, he prefers to drive like he's playing Grand Theft Auto, not that Eric minds or anything.

He pulls himself into the car, attempting to brush off Danny's wide eyes and gaping mouth.

"Explanation. Now."

"Pull out first."

Danny does as instructed. Only then does Eric notice it's 7:30 in the morning and immediately feels guilty, even though he knows well enough Danny's a morning person. They drive in the silence for a couple minutes before he's able to spill.

"We got fucking pissed. That's all I'm gonna say."

Danny laughs, "Trouble in paradise huh? What did you say to him?"

"That's for me to know and you to obsess over." Eric forces a grin onto his face. He's way too embarrassed to tell anyone that he slept in the same bed as his best friend. He's already attempting to bury it in himself.

Because it's better that way...

~

England training comes the next day and he's already bitten his nails to stubs. It's a filthy habit, and he knows it, but he doesn't think he can face Dele today, he really doesn't.

He's honestly gonna be sick.

The drive to training is probably one of the worst of his life. He can't remember the last time he didn't have Dele in the car next to him and he misses it painfully.

It's for the best.

At least that's what he keeps telling himself.

He pairs up for training exercises with Danny, earning himself a couple odd glances from his Spurs teammates. He quickly brushes them off and focuses on his stretching. He'd never admit it out loud, but he isn't exactly the biggest fan of England training, especially right now with roster cuts approaching, sure it's nowhere near as gruelling as Pochettino's notorious double sessions, but each drill feels like an audition, and boy, does Eric ever hate that.

Training passes fairly smoothly. For the majority of drills he has very little interaction with Dele, which suits him just fine. They're finishing off with a scrimmage game. Seven on seven. Eric thrives for these games. Even if it's only training.

There's only one issue. Dele's on the opposing team. Eric can't avoid him forever, but still, his luck really is awful.

And that's when things go from bad to worse.

He's played a real game, he really has. It's 5-5 if he remembers correctly, but his overall read of the game has been at its best throughout.

It all happens in the last minute.

His teams won themselves a corner. With the defenders rushing into the area, he decides to sit back. He's knackered to be honest, so it doesn't bother him one bit. Dele and Jamie Vardy are around him, but he's not too worried. This is obviously the last play, and it's not like they'll make a mess of it or anything.

Wrong.

The ball ends up being quickly cleared and punted up to Vardy, who flicks it on for Dele to catch up to. Eric's already darting towards it. He's not as quick as Dele, but his positioning's spot on. Even if Dele gets there first, he'll be forced outside, playing right into Eric's trap.

That is, until Dele puts it straight through his legs and smashes it into the back of the net.

Eric is furious. Of course he had to put it right through his legs. A fucking nutmeg. Of course. Of all the times it had to happen.

But of course it has to. This is their individual battle.

A battle Dele always wins.

And Eric always loses.

He really is sick of it.

~  
  
The text comes when Eric's in bed. He hasn't left since yesterday. Partly because of exhaustion and partly because of frustration. He's acting like a child, and he knows it, but for now he can't bring himself to give a shit.

_> Me and Del r going shopping, u in?_

It's Kyle, and if Eric says no he'll definitely know something's up. So he tries to be realistic with his excuse.

> _Sorry Walker, I'm out, can't move._

Kyle's reply is instant.

> _We'll be right over princess._

Eric groans into the pillow.

_> I'm not answering the door._

_> Don't worry we'll break in if we have to. I'm not kidding. There in 5._

His gut instinct is to run. But that'll mean questions. Questions Eric already knows he doesn't have an answer to.

The knock on the door comes quicker than he expects. He doesn't answer it obviously, but when more knocks don't follow he's surprised, peering out the peephole to find no one on his doorstep. He's just opened the door when he feels a strangers breath on the back of his neck.

"Boo."

In all honestly, he almost pisses himself.

His shoves Dele instantly. He can practically feel his heart attempting to bust out of his rib cage, and wouldn't be all that surprised if it stopped beating all together.

"What the actual fuck Dele! Are you nuts?! How did you even get in here?"

Dele bows his head in defeat. He won't meet Eric's eyes. He's scared. And he's definitely not hiding it.

"You gave me a key to the back, remember?"

"And you thought it would be a great idea to use it after what happened?"

"Kyle made me do it. His exact words were, 'go kiss and make up with your princess for whatever you did.' He's waiting for us." Eric internally groans at Kyle's choice of words. He can't imagine what his teammate would do if he heard about the incident a couple nights ago. He'd probably laugh himself to the grave. 

"I'm not going anywhere with you Dele."

Dele instantly deflates. "I... I'm sorry Eric." He slips up, letting a single tear falls from his eyes. And that's all it takes to realize for Eric to realize he's let Dele down.

He knows his purpose in this world, and he probably knows Dele's even better. He determined this the second he first trained with Dele. Because Dele has a gift, anyone can see it, but Eric, he really sees it.

He sees it when they train together. He sees it when Dele teases him with everything from his hairstyle to his mistakes. He sees it in Dele's heart.

Because he knows Dele's feelings, his emotions better than he knows his own.

Way better.

He sees the pedestal. The top of the mountain Dele will reach some day. He's seen it for way too long, long before anyone realized how close and how soon Dele would come to reaching it. That's where Eric comes in, his purpose. His purpose is to prevent Dele from falling. Holding him up for as long as it takes.

He can't fail that purpose.

That's what makes him wrap his arms around Dele, what makes the tears start to fall from his eyes.

"Don't go, please don't go anywhere." He whispers, stroking Dele's hair, trying to get ahold of himself. He already knows his efforts are futile, but he can't let Dele fall.

"Eric..."

"I can't hold it in anymore..." The pounding in his chest is getting stronger and Dele's warmth is seeping into his skin.

He takes a deep breath. This is it. And God damnit, it's definitely gonna be sappy. "Dele Alli... When I met you I felt this little spark. I know it sounds cliche and all, but I really did. After awhile that spark grew into some sort of inferno and I can't... I can't control it anymore, no matter how much I try to. But I couldn't ruin our friendship, because I can't live in a world that you're not a part of. So I tried to convince myself that everything we were doing was normal, but after sleeping with you I couldn't do it anymore. And it scared me, it really did Dele, because I can't lose you. But I... I'm in love and I... Please don't go..."

The tears are really coming now.

Well, so much for being strong.

"I love you Eric."

If he's being completely honest, he's pretty sure his heart actually stops.

"I know you're scared, it's new for me too. But I can be fearless for both of us, I really can Dier. Because I'm always buzzing when I'm with you, I won't let you down, I promise."

Eric, wipes away the mess that's going on in his eyes as Dele pulls away from him, a soft smile on his lips.

"I missed you, Diet." He whispers as he leans in.

"Yeah, Del Boy, I missed you too." He does the same.

Their lips meet halfway.

And for one of the first times in his life, Eric is perfectly happy not to be normal.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
